


No mercy for the fallen

by captainhurricane



Category: BioShock
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4985134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The city, the lighthouse, the man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No mercy for the fallen

Do not think of the ones left behind when the city fell. The ones who never stuck a needle in their arm, never let themselves go under the knives. Never listened to the boasting promises of Andrew Ryan but still feasted on the fruits of his labour. Namely the city of his dreams, Rapture. 

Do not think of the ones who remain sane and whole, hiding and holed up in their rooms, behind barricades that eventually fell away to the chatter of Splicers, to the unearthly moans of Big Daddies. 

Do not think of Andrew Ryan in his office, playing minigolf, talking into the microphone to stall his own impending death, watching from behind the glass how his city falls deeper into the ruin. Do not think of him for he doesn’t deserve it. 

Do not think of Frank Fontaine, of his disguises, his life of lies. Do not think of him, the man of the people for he is not that. He is no one but the man of his own self, only for himself. Do not trust the voice in the Voxophone for he is the king of liars. Do not spare a thought towards Atlas for there resides only greed in his heart. 

Do not think of Tenenbaum and her Little Ones. Do not think of her but do think of her Little Ones, those innocent, those brainwashed to do her irreedemable bidding. She tries to save them but perhaps it’s all for nothing and redemption is not something she can be so easily given. 

Do not think of Suchong, the creator, the scientist. He dies a lonely death under the sea and that’s the way it should be. 

x

Do think of Augustus Sinclair, smiling into the night and speaking to the man-turned-beast, his would-be saviour. A simple hotel owner who merely didn’t get his foot inside the last bathysphere that headed back to the surface. Do think of his last sacrifice and a smile that remained until darkness came.

Do think of Eleanor Lamb, the sacrificial child who refused her destiny and forged herself a new one. If her story ends in a stormy sea and a dead father or a new sunrise reflected upon the surface of the ocean. Well, that’s up to her. 

Do think of Jack, the man of no past, the man of no name, mind twisted and turned beyond recognisition, grown up not in a woman’s womb but in a glass tube. If his story ends in happiness, in second chances or a new tyranny amidst the chaos and darkness of Rapture. Well, that’s up to him.

Do think of Subject Delta, the beast that was the man called Johnny. Do think of Delta and his heavy footsteps in Rapture’s corridors, body eternally trapped in a suit of armour, the crush of the deep ocean no more than a dull pressure against him. Do think of Delta and the mind that woke to a ruined city. 

x

Do think of Rapture, freedom to choose, freedom to live as who you are. Free of tyranny, free of kingdoms of men. Now fish swim around the ruined halls and skyscrapers, shark dives inside a collapsed hall that once hosted grand balls. Do think of Rapture, the utter foolishness, the utter dreamlike quality to the city under the sea.


End file.
